


Home is where The Heart is

by HannahaMalik



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Derek coming home, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, stiles is losing his mind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahaMalik/pseuds/HannahaMalik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't the first time he's wound up at the spacious loft not remembering how or why he's there. It's one of the many things pounding through his head when he's alone at 3 am. Why of all places does he end up at Derek's, seemingly everytime there's nothing to do or no place to be. Even if the Sourwolf had moved out months ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, it takes place after season 4 and before season 5. Hope you enjoy! -HD

Stiles stilinski sat in the empty loft not knowing what to do. Scott was with Isaac, of course. Lydia was shopping and no one else seemed to be around either. 

He truly doesnt even know why he's here and doesn't remember how he got here either. One thing he does know for certain is that he's not the same stiles anymore. The darkness dwelling in his chest grew stronger each day and he was yet again slowly losing his differentiating sanity. 

Now he sits on the ledge of Derek's former bed taking in the ever fainting scent of body wash and Derek's trademark leather. He doesn't remember walking up the stairs either. 

This isn't the first time he's wound up at the spacious loft not remembering how or why he's there. It's one of the many things pounding through his head when he's alone at 3 am. Why of all places does he end up at Derek's, seemingly everytime there's nothing to do or no place to be. Even if the Sourwolf had moved out months ago.

All the overthinking really got to his head and worked up a panic, with no one there to calm him down he could only rely on himself and the figment version of Derek he seems to have hallucinated. 

 

"Stiles? what are you doing in my loft? why are you here by yourself? why are you in my ro-" Derek stopped himself taking a look at the currently unresponsive- usually non stop talking- stiles. 

Stiles eyes snap up to scan over Derek quickly then they squint shut. hyperventilating stiles plugs his ears, rocking back and forth murmering: he's not real, he's not real, wake up, wake up! 

 

Derek tried to pry the boys hands off his ears with no avail, he just couldn't stop or calm him down. begining to get worried, his last resort was to try what Laura always did for him after the fire, she called it "caring contact". 

Slowly sitting down next to Stiles, trying not to startle the poor boy, Derek slowly wraps his arms around his torso; brnging his right hand up to card through stiles fluffy brown hair , rocking back and forth in the process. 

At first, Stiles rejected the contact, thrashing about like a madman in order to escape. Then after a minute his hands fell from his ears and he clued in to the touch, responding by attaching himself to Derek; his nose finding its way into the crook of the wolfs neck, his body going completely 'lax yet sobs wracked through his body. It seemed to calm him and he fell almost instantaniously asleep. 

 

When Derek realised this, he took the hand out of stiles hair to pull back the duvet and slip the unconscious teen safely into bed; and if the looks of the bags under his eyes were any indication, he truly needed rest. 

 

It wasnt really the welcome home that derek had expected. Then after all he really didn't expect anything at all seeing as nobody knew he was coming home or that he was staying home. for good this time. 

And again his timing was shit like always. But was it really? After all he did help Stiles from a potential severe mental break down. Yet judging by stiles' mental state it would also be ill advised to tell him just how in love Derek is with the spastic teenage boy.


	2. Chapter 2

Coughing slightly, Stiles rolls over in the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, slightly confused of his whereabouts. Looking down he realizes where he is; Derek's. Still, he doesn't remember anything about the night beforehand. Groaning slightly, Stiles sits up and stretches his stressed muscles. His mouth was parched and his head pounded. Almost as if he had been crying. 

 

Downstairs Derek was cooking breakfast with the groceries he picked up only a few hours prior. 

Last night he didn't get an ounce of sleep, but it didn't matter because he could assure himself and his wolf that Stiles was safe even though he may not be sound.

Hearing movement upstairs, Derek tunes his hearing to listen. He could hear Stiles slightly elevated heart beat pumping, and then him stub his toe yelling curses out as he made his way downstairs. 

Stumbling his way into Derek's kitchen, Stiles looks confused at the werewolf in front of him.

"Der?," Stiles questions, rubbing his eyes as if the man was merely an illusion.

" yeah Stiles? You ok?" Derek replies, setting down the spatula as he makes his way over to the seemingly light headed boy. Just in time to catch him as he tumbles. Derek guides him over to the table and sits him down at a chair. Sitting next to him, Derek rubs Stiles back.

" what's wrong stiles?" Derek asks, beginning to get more concerned about the teen. Stiles looks up at Derek, a new wave of tears in his eyes.

"Is it really you, Derek? Or- or is my mind torturing me? I can't wake up. So I'm guessing it's really you?" Stiles says, bouncing his leg nervously.

" it's really me stiles, I'll prove it. Looks at our hands for a second. Count the fingers with me." Derek makes a show of his hands in front of stiles, " count with me." 

"1...2...3...4...5..6..7...8..9..10" they count in unison. 

Locking eyes with the man he hasn't seen for what feels like forever, Stiles reaches up and gently grabs the bearded face in front of him.

" it's really you..." Stiles says with tears brimming in his eyes. He then brings the older guy into a bone crushing hug, digging his face into the crook of Derek's neck and inhaling the scent of him. 

 

Pushing Derek back by the shoulders, yet leaving his hands there, stiles begins to confess what's happening in his head and how he needs help with it and how it won't stop. 

" promise me you won't think I'm deluded or insane.... I really for once need to get shit off my chest and- and I don't think anyone's truly listened to me in weeks. They've brushed me aside like some parasitic disease that no one wants around- and - an-" stiles rambles out, flailing his arms frantically almost hitting Derek several times.

 

" no matter how hard you tried stiles; I don't think I could ever find you insane. I will listen, I don't care if it takes hours- damn take a day if you need to!" Reassures Derek " I also don't think I could ever not want you around." He mumbles the last part making sure it wasn't to be heard.

 

" thank you so much... I- yo- you truly don't understand just how nice you're being... " stiles starts off. " anyways. It started a few weeks after you left. It would start off as simply misplacing little things and I wouldn't be able to find them or remember where I put them. Then it started getting more intense such as when I sneezed, when I re opened my eyes I would be in a room I wasn't in before I sneezed. Then I would be holding conversations that apparently never happened with people that didn't exist and one time when I got angry my doors and windows slammed shut by themselves. And- an- and last night I don't remember driving here or why I came. Do you think I'm insane?" Stiles blurts out. 

 

Derek was thinking so hard and apparently so long about what this could mean that he never even said a word to the frantic boy in front of him that stiles thought the worst: Derek thought he was insane. A total whack job.

 

"So it's true I guess.. I really do belong in Eichen house don't I? Locked up away from normal people-" stiles fretted. 

Derek looked up, shocked. " no no nonoononon- not at all stiles. Yet I do think you need proper rest for a few days, you are in no way crazy! You're a spark! That's what all the signs are pointing to; you're not crazy stiles; you're magical" Derek ends with an unusually large smile on his face. 

Stiles' jaw dropped. 

" a what?!"

"A spark!"

"What the hell's that?" Stiles questioned, brows furrowed together.

" a magical being. Most end up being emissaries to packs." Derek explained. 

"Like Deaton?" Questioned stiles. He had speculations that the odd things weren't the result of human psychosis, yet it seemed more reasonable then being a fucking wizard. 

" Deaton's an emissary, yet he possesses no magical powers. You can still be an emissary without any magic." Derek cleared up stiles' suspicions. 

Now that he thinks of it, Derek always smelled cinnamon around stiles and thought nothing of it. Even when his mother explained that magic beings always smelled of spices, he just assumed it was one of the werewolves.

 

Completely side tracked, Derek completely forgot about the (now scorched) egg omelettes he was frying up. 

 

" Hey, Derek? What's burning?" Stiles asked, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

 

Panicking only slightly when stiles said burning, Derek jumped up running to the smoking mess left on his stove. Not thinking when he grabbed the hot pan, throwing it in the already filled sink.

"Shi- Fuc- ow! Motherfucker!!" Derek yelled, holding his burnt hand with his other.

When he hears Derek cursing, stiles rushes over. 

" shit, Der let me see!" Stiles says , knowing that burns take almost just as long to heal on a werewolf as a human.

" it's fine Stiles. It will heal!" Derek countered, keeping his hand protectively by his stomach. 

 

"Just let me see it!" Stiles starts off, slightly aggravated with Derek's child-like behaviour.  
"Please," he finishes softer, reaching out to take the sourwolf's hand. Reluctantly, Derek lets Stiles take his hand.

Grimacing when he sees the nasty red lash mark across the older mans hand, he looks up to see him looking back at him.

" I wanna try something. It happened accidentally a few weeks ago when I cut my chin shaving." Stiles explained.

" go for it, I guess" replies Derek nonchalantly, nodding his head towards his injured hand.

Nervously, Stiles takes Derek's hand. He closes his eyes and closes his hands around the burn. 

Hissing momentarily, Derek is amazed at what Stiles just accomplished. Werewolves can leach pain, but sparks can heal wounds, and that's exactly what stiles amazingly accomplished.

 

" guess we're eating out then, Huh big guy?" Stiles jokes, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.

God, Derek was in love with an idiot.


End file.
